


It's the Eyes

by Trexi



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Era, Episode: s03e10 Queen of Hearts, Gen, Magic Reveal, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:46:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22216516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trexi/pseuds/Trexi
Summary: Arthur realises who Dragoon is when he sets into his tirade of insulting Arthur and compares him to a toad.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 300





	It's the Eyes

“You’re a spoiled arrogant brat with the brains of a donkey and the face–” Dragoon coughs, “of a toad.”

I freeze. Surely, he can’t be...

_“Well at least I don’t look like a bone idle ... toad. Let’s go.”_

_“Are you saying I look like a toad?”_

_“Yeah. And maybe one day you’ll magically transform into a handsome prince. Since magic’s outlawed, that’ll probably never happen.”_

I could never figure out what he sounded so bitter, too busy wondering why my manservant decided he could order me around. And Merlin would never be missing from my side right now if Guinevere was in danger. No, he’d be trying to act noble, even though he’s nothing like a knight, and sacrifice himself in her place. He’s done it once before, after all, and here is, confessing to sorcerery to save her from the pyre again. Any doubt I have that this ‘Dragoon’ isn’t Merlin washes away the moment those all-too-familiar eyes glare at me.

Merlin’s a sorcerer. And I could reveal the truth right now.

“This old man is clearly mad,” I declare instead, though it is most definitely still a truth. “He’s barely able to string an insult together, _and_ he got caught in such an obvious way. One would almost think he was the scapegoat and that the real sorcerer behind all of this is threatening him somehow. I think we should do a search of the citadel for whoever is behind this clearly elaborate plot to undermine the royal household.”

‘Dragoon’ stares at me with wide, unblinking, so obviously familiar eyes. “N-now wait just a minute! I _am_ a sorcerer. In fact, I’m the most powerful sorcerer to ever live. The druids all but worship me. The Great Dragon himself cowers in the presence of my wrath for _I_ am the foretold one, the one who will restore magic to Camelot, and the advisor to the Once and Future King.”

Father laughs. Everyone in the room joins him, even Gaius, who must know the truth because he’s looking at ‘Dragoon’ with a mixture of exasperation and concern that I’ve only ever seen directed Merlin’s way. ‘Dragoon’ meanwhile, just looks more and more offended, to the point that I think aside from the disguise, he may actually have been telling the truth just now. But that would mean a number of things that I have no intention of figuring out at this moment, let alone while both Merlin and Guinevere are in danger due to whoever is leaving fake magical poultices about.

“I slayed the Great Dragon over a year ago,” I point out. “Surely, this is just more proof that this ‘Dragoon’ is merely an old hermit grasping for straws. I seriously doubt any actual sorcerer wouldn’t know that there are no more dragons left.” I scoff. “He even claims to be the most powerful. Would we not feel the waves of dark power rolling off him if that were the case?”

Father sobers. “Tell us then, _Dragoon_ ,” he says, clearly realising that the name is made up. “Who is the real culprit behind all of this?”

For some reason, ‘Dragoon’ glances at Morgana before hunching his shoulders. “It was a sorceress, the last of the High Priestesses and once apprentice to Camelot’s enemy of old, Nimueh,” he says, voice as serious as it was when he was insulting the King. “She called herself Morgause, and she threatened the lives of everyone in the castle if I did not play along. After she so easily put the entire citadel to sleep last year, I had no doubt she would follow through on her threat.”

“And your madness?” Father questions. “Was that an act too?”

‘Dragoon’ smiles bitterly. “I know exactly what kind of person you expect when you think old sorcerer, Uther Pendragon. You would rather believe that those you hate are ripe with insanity than admit that they are sane enough to choose magic, despite the consequences. That is, if they have a choice at all.”

He puts a strange emphasis on that final sentence, almost like... Almost like Merlin had no choice in having magic himself. But Father has always insisted that such a thing is something sorcerers choose because they lack the willpower to resist the temptation of power. I can’t see Merlin of all people choosing power and then staying in servitude. That doesn’t fit who he is.

“You admit to sorcery then?” Father asks.

“Your son brought me here because I used magic against him, but if you doubt his word so much, then I can always give you a demonstration of my power,” ‘Dragoon’ says.

I’m not sure if Father would recognise the offended tone the sorcerer takes at the idea that my word isn’t good enough. It’s the same one Merlin takes whenever he overhears someone insulting me. That’s right before the servant turns around and calls me a prat of course. What’s it say about me that I’d rather that than nobles praising me to my face and insulting me behind my back? At least with Merlin, he’s willing to tell you exactly how he feels on the matter. You never have reason to doubt his word when he praises you because of that.

‘Dragoon’ doesn’t wait for the King’s response. His eyes flash gold and the dust in front of him swirls first into the druid triskelion and then a dragon. The dragon circles the sorcerer’s head and lands on his shoulder. I’m not sure the idiot even realises that the dust dragon is nuzzling his cheek, too busy glaring defiantly at Father, the expression so unquestionably Merlin-like that I double check nobody else has made the connection. I meet Gaius’s eyes by accident, and the physician appears to catch himself mid-flinch. He raises his eyebrows and glances from ‘Dragoon’ to me, no doubt asking why I haven’t outed him yet. I pointedly look at the dust dragon, and then back to Gaius, silently answering ‘he’s an idiot, but he’s a harmless idiot.’

Gaius seems to accept this response because he looks back to the King who’s sputtering at the indignity of magic being performed so casually in his presence.

“Take him away!” Father orders.

I bow and yank ‘Dragoon’ by the arm.

The idiot sputters and spits several unflattering insults my way, but all they do is remind me of who’s behind the old man disguise.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll shut up,” I hiss.

‘Dragoon’ sends me a familiarly vicious glare.

I ignore it in favour of dismissing the guards. “I can handle one mad sorcerer,” I say.

The guards look like they might protest, but my annoyed expression on top of ‘Dragoon’ still muttering insults convinces them to back off.

“You’re an idiot,” I mutter to the sorcerer.

‘Dragoon’ merely stares at me as though he’s contemplating which curse would suit me best. I’m not sure whether it’d be the magical or verbal kind.

It takes him far too long to realise that I’m dragging him back to my chambers and not to the dungeons.

“What are you doing?” he asks, the ‘you prat’ unsaid, yet I still notice him wanting to tack it on.

I shove my doors open and slam them close behind me.

“Drop the act, Merlin, unless you really do want me to drag you to the dungeons.”

‘Dragoon’ sputters. “I’m not Merlin. Who is this _Merlin_ anyway? It sounds like a terrible name, and not at all the kind one would give to a sorcerer.”

I cross my arms. “You can either drop the act now, or I can take you back to the King and tell him that my manservant is a sorcerer. Of course, Guinevere would still be in danger, and you’ll no doubt be blamed for teaching her magic, so I would rather we avoid that option.”

Merlin sighs. “What gave me away?” he asks.

“That wasn’t the first time you’ve called me a toad, _Mer_ lin.”

“It was the eyes, wasn’t it?”

“They certainly confirmed it.”

Merlin groans. “Gaius said the eyes gave me away.”

“Was that while he told you what a stupid plan this was?” I ask.

“It would’ve been fine if you hadn’t interfered. I had it covered.”

I stare at him in disbelief. “Really?”

“All I had to do was be convicted in Gwen’s place and then I could’ve reversed the aging spell and escaped. No problem.”

“Might as well reverse that spell then while we figure out a better plan.”

Merlin huffs. “Fine.”

He mutters something no doubt illegal under his breath, but nothing happens.

“Anytime now, _Mer_ lin.”

“I’m trying, you prat. It always takes a bit to get the spell right the first time around.”

“The first time around?” I question. “You mean you didn’t practice beforehand?”

“The situation was dire.”

The most powerful sorcerer to ever live is an idiot. Why am I not surprised? This _is_ Merlin after all.

I give him thirty seconds. “You can’t do it, can you?”

“I’m sure if I had enough time–”

“If I hadn’t figured it out, and you did take the place of Guinevere, can you honestly tell me that you would’ve had enough time to reverse this spell before morning came and you were brought to the pyre?”

Merlin throws his hands up. “I don’t know! But it would’ve been worth it if it meant saving Gwen.”

“There is no situation where it’s okay for your two lives to be traded for the other. I will not have either of you killed. Am I clear?”

“But I have magic.”

“Then use that magic to find a better solution. We don’t have much time.”

“Take to the dungeons and I’ll–”

“We’ll find some way to get you back to normal,” I interrupt, clenching and unclenching my fist. “And then you can take a message to Guinevere. The two of us will act as though an enchantment has worn off. I hate having to lie about my true feelings for her, but it’s better that than losing either of you to that pyre. I’m sure Guinevere will understand given the risk. We’ll have to be far more discrete in the future, even if it won’t be easy. The best choices never are.”

Merlin nods. “Will you be telling her? About my magic?”

“I think she ought to know the sacrifice you were willing to make for her.”

“It’s Gwen. She doesn’t deserve to fear that pyre.”

Nobody does.

**Author's Note:**

> Not many people decide toad is an insult fit for Arthur.


End file.
